Separated
by Atarah Derek
Summary: A Storykeepers fic. Rome, 64 AD. Emperor Nero has unleashed his fury against the Christians. Their crime: Proclaiming a king higher than Caesar. Featuring Paul the apostle.
1. Chapter 1

**Separated**

a Storykeepers fic

**Summary:** Ben and Helena are naturals as foster parents, which leads me to believe that they have experience raising kids. They are a Jewish couple in their 40s, and unless one of them is incapable of parenting offspring, they would have had children of their own—albeit grown or at least teenage children. This is my little story exploring that possibility, and what might have happened during the fires.

**Disclaimer:** Zondervan owns it all, except Keren.

**Dedication:** To Sabina Wurmbrand, whom I believe is the person upon which the character of Helena is based, and who fostered several children who were orphaned during the Holocaust—Hitler's version of the fire in Rome.

* * *

That day had started out like any other. Clear, calm, beautiful. Merchants and vendors lined the streets of Rome, calling out to passerbys to consider their products. Small groups of friends or businessmen gathered on street corners, spreading the latest news and rumors, the two most popular of which concerned the questionable mental state of Nero Caesar (once considered decades ago to be the most dynamic and lovable of Rome's emperors), and the prisoner from Judea who had recently practically given himself up to Roman custody. The Christian missionary, Paul by name, was under house arrest in Rome, awaiting an audience with Caesar that the little ruler was determined would never come.

It was to the latter rumors that one man paid particularly close attention. Benjamin bar Simeon stood at his booth, straining to hear over the noise of the crowd, as two men at a nearby fruit stand discussed their recent visit to Paul in hushed voices. Ben wanted to get closer—even join in the conversation—but couldn't leave his bread and rolls untended. Besides, how would it look if a short, stout baker with a very Jewish face simply strode up to two much taller and obviously very Roman men immersed in a conversation about political prisoners?

Jews were rare in Rome (though their numbers were growing), and those that did live there tended to avoid interacting with Gentiles beyond everyday business. The fact that Christianity, as this new sect of the Jewish religion had come to be called, was now overflowing into the Roman and Greek populations made Caesar nervous. Nero didn't take kindly to being told that "inferior" races refused to acknowledge him as a god. Now these infernal Jews were undermining Rome's authority with their Jesus. Thus those Jews who rejected Jesus (and did so vehemently, according to the reports coming out of Israel and also the prisoner Paul's own testimony) did not want to be pegged by the Romans as being among Jesus' impudent followers—the "little Christs." And so they worked even harder to avoid Roman or Greek Christians.

All these reasons kept Ben firmly rooted to his spot. Joining his Gentile brothers' conversation could do them more harm than would come to his own bread. So the baker simply kept one ear tuned into the chatter from the fruit stand, quietly wondering which fellowship they were a part of, and if they would enjoy visiting Ben's little house church to exchange stories about Jesus.

Baker by day, pastor by night. It wasn't an easy lifestyle. And Ben's fellowship was unknown to Nero. It comprised mostly Jewish Christians, so it was best kept secret from the outside world. Discrimination was significantly worse toward Jewish Christians, and Jews in general, than it was toward low class Roman Christians. Of course, the Romans had no real right to complain. It was they who convinced Nero to uproot Ben from his hometown of Capernaum in Galilee and bring him all the way to Italy, just because they liked his bread. But then, he had no right to complain, either. God had been good to him, and during a brief stop in Ephesus on the way to Rome, Ben had met Helena, a gentle young woman from the small Hellenistic Jewish community in that city, who later became his wife.

Speaking of whom...

"You'll never sell anything if you don't attract the attention of customers."

Concentration broken, Ben cast a glance at the speaker. His wife stood in front of the booth, arms crossed, with a smile on her face and one eyebrow arched.

Ben chuckled. "Sorry. I was trying to...ah...eavesdrop." He gestured to the two men at the fruit stand.

"Ben, what have we told Keren about that?" Helena playfully wagged a finger at him.

"Don't do it unless your life depends on it," offered an approaching teenage boy, walking alongside a girl of similar age and hair and features similar to Helena's.

Helena rolled her eyes at the boy, but maintained her grin. "And how often does your life depend on the latest gossip, Zakkai?"

"She has a point, Zak," Ben said, trying to divert Helena's impending lecture away from himself.

The girl laughed at the expression of mock hurt that her friend now wore. "That's Dad's equivalent of the 'listen to your mother' that I get so often."

Zak crossed his arms. "And they say the husband's the head of the household." He glanced at Ben, who rewarded him with an eye roll of his own.

"True," said Helena, "but the woman is the neck, and she can turn the head any way she wants."

Ben responded with a sheepish grin and a chuckle. "I have to admit, she's right. Ahem. Anyway, what are you kids up to?"

"Following Mom around, mostly," Keren offered. "Checking up on you. Eavesdropping."

That last comment earned her a raised eyebrow from Helena.

"So just what were you trying so intently to hear?" Helena asked her husband.

"Just some news on the missionary, Paul. I've been anxious to go down and meet him, especially after everything we've heard. I've only seen the collateral from the letter he wrote to Rome's largest church, and I'd like to know exactly what it is he did write."

Helena busied herself rearranging the placement of Ben's baked goods. "So you want to try to get down to the docks, then?"

"That's crazy!" Zak exclaimed. "The Romans would be on you in a second. And you know how they treat Jews who wander into their territory."

"Not all Romans are that prejudiced, Zak," Ben countered.

"Oh, yes they are! May I remind you what they've done in Israel? Or how they frisk anyone they want whenever they feel like it? Or all the questions they ask, especially Jews and Africans? Take it from me, Ben. My family's been fighting the Roman occupation for years. Those guys are bad news."

"I'm still trying to figure out how you ended up in Rome," Keren commented.

Zak shrugged. "Inside job. My dad figured that if they could invade us, we could invade them."

"The only invading of Rome to be done will be done by the truth of Messiah," Ben said. "And I'm sure Paul has plenty of advice on how to make that happen effectively."

"So you're determined to see him, then?" Helena asked.

"Yes," Ben answered. "I'm going to go down tonight and try to see him."

"But Dad, we have a meeting tonight," Keren said.

Ben slapped his forehead. "Of course. I'd forgotten. Tomorrow night, then."

Helena shook her head. "I think you can fit both in. Go down to the docks just before sunset. Tomorrow's the Sabbath, and if you're wandering around after sunset, the guards will grow suspicious. But the meeting doesn't start until then anyway. You should have plenty of time."

"Yeah, if you leave...oh, I don't know, ten minutes ago?" Zak offered sarcastically.

"He's right, Helena," Ben said. "I would have to leave now, and even then, there's no guarantee I'll make it back before the meeting starts."

"So we start without you," Keren said. "It's not like we haven't done that before."

"I'll take care of everything," Helena promised. "I know how much you want to meet Paul. So just go. We'll take care of the booth."

Ben slipped out of the booth and hugged his wife. "What would I ever do without you? Any of you?"

Keren smiled. "We get it, Dad. Just go."

Ben gave his daughter a quick hug and turned to give his wife a kiss. "I'll try not to be late. My parents always hated it when one of us was late for the Sabbath."

"Here, take some bread for him," Helena suggested, slipping a rye loaf into a bag and handing it to Ben.

"Of course," Ben said, accepting the bag. "What's fellowship without the breaking of bread? Alright, I'll be back this evening, then."

With that, the baker turned and broke into a brisk walk in the direction of Rome's port.

* * *

Ben surveyed the houses that overlooked the port's largest pier. He'd heard that Paul was being kept in one of these houses. He figured he'd know exactly which one by the number of guards surrounding it.

Sure enough, finding the house wasn't too difficult. Getting in was the hard part. Ben exhaled slowly and strode up to the door of the tiny house.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Ben said, greeting the two burly Roman soldiers who stood on either side of the door. "Is the preacher Paul in today?"

The guards cast a glance at one another and fixed their stare back on the baker. "And what business is it of yours, Jew?" one guard demanded.

"Well, you see, I'm a baker, and I'm here delivering bread."

The other guard snorted. "The prisoner has already had his fill of bread today."

"Ah, yes, but he has never tasted the bread of Caesar's favorite baker," Ben bragged. It was no exaggeration. Ben had been granted the occasional audience with Caesar or his senate because of his skills.

The second guard laughed. "You? Yeah right! Caesar's favorite baker is a Jew? Is that why you shave your beard? To fit in at the palace?"

Ben ignored the comment, but his hand found its way to the stubble on his chin.

The other guard joined in his comrade's laughter. "Even if what you say is true, the prisoner does not deserve such _fine_ bread." The man's voice dripped with sarcasm on the word 'fine.'

"Ah, but Paul is a very influential figure among Christians," Ben said. "If anyone can act as a spokesman on behalf of Rome to the Christians, it's him. Perhaps Caesar's hospitality is his way of showing Paul that Rome is not as terrible as we Jews have made it out to be." He smiled wryly at the guards. "Or perhaps you would like to explain to Nero why you turned away his finest baker, on a goodwill mission to help keep the peace between Rome and the Way sect of the Jews?"

The guards looked around nervously. "Be quick," said the first guard, moving aside to let the baker past.

The second guard opened the door and called inside, "The prisoner has another visitor."

Ben slipped inside and glanced around. There was only one window in the room, and it bathed about half the room in sunlight. A guard stood at a table on the other side of the room from the window. Behind the table sat a man who looked far older than his 60 years. His hair was almost white, and the shadows emphasized the wrinkles and scars on his face.

"Do not take all night," the guard at the door said gruffly. He closed the door, shutting Ben in with the third guard and the missionary.

Paul smiled warmly, rising from his chair to greet Ben. "And by whom do I have the honor of being visited?"

Ben suddenly felt nervous in the presence of this hero of the faith. Paul had obviously been through so much. Here before him was the man who had started dozens, if not hundreds, of churches throughout Asia Minor and the known world. He was street wise and spiritually wise. Though the baker couldn't understand why, when Paul was so human and so flawed, but Ben felt just as intimidated by this man as he had as a boy, nervously offering his lunch to Jesus' disciples to be used by his Lord to feed thousands. That act had gotten him an audience with Jesus Himself. It was a moment Ben would remember vividly all his life. As was this moment now.

Ben swallowed. "Uh...shalom. Greetings in the name of Messiah our Lord. My name is Ben. I'm a baker. I've come to offer you some bread from my bakery."

Paul kept smiling as he accepted the gift. "A fellow Jew. I don't see many of my people these days. Welcome to my humble abode, and thank you for the bread. Please, sit."

He gestured to a stool at the table. Ben mumbled a thank you and sat down, while Paul took his own seat. Ben glanced over the scrolls laid out on the desk.

Paul followed his gaze. "This is a letter to Timothy, a dear friend of mine who is a pastor in Ephesus," the missionary explained.

"I've heard only good things about Pastor Timothy," Ben said. "My wife is from Ephesus. She was very close to Eunice, Timothy's mother, and the two of them still keep in touch. Eunice is very proud of her son, isn't she?"

Paul chuckled. "Indeed she is. But she doesn't brag about him quite the way her mother does. Oh, you should hear Lois go on about her grandchildren."

Ben laughed. "I'm sure my wife will do the same thing when we become grandparents."

"How many children do you have?"

"One daughter, and she is the light of our lives. She's become very close to a young man we took in after his father died. Though neither of them will admit it, it's quite obvious that they like each other."

"Best keep an eye on them, then," Paul said.

Ben smiled. "Keren and Zak are very responsible. They are scarcely alone together, mainly because each is embarrassed by the thought of the other finding out how he or she feels." He chuckled at the awkwardness of the teens whenever they were alone together in a separate room of the house, or even outside in the street. "Do you have children?"

Paul shook his head. "My wife and I didn't plan on having children right away, which I admit is a little unusual for a Pharisee like I was at the time. When I became a Follower, my wife tried to persuade me to go back to the legalistic life that I once knew—a life that had put her in good standing in society. Of course, I refused. So she left. In spite of all my old teacher Gamaliel did to persuade her to stay with me, she packed up and went back to her parents' house. As far as I know she has never remarried. It is difficult enough for a woman to initiate a divorce, which she only accomplished with the help of former friends of mine in Jerusalem. It is even more difficult for the divorced woman to marry again."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ben said. "I admit, I've often wondered if you had once been married. I know it's required to become a Pharisee or a rabbi."

Paul shrugged. "It's in the past. I don't even know if she's still alive. But whatever her status, I pray that she did come to recognize Jesus as Messiah."

Ben nodded in agreement.

"But enough about me," Paul said. "I have already written too much about my troubles, I think. I wouldn't be surprised if the churches are starting to complain about my complaining!" He chuckled. "Tell me, what brings you to my door?"

"Well, I'm a pastor myself," Ben explained in a low voice, glancing nervously at the guard. The man stood on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. His arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes were closed, and he seemed to be paying little, if any attention. Ben relaxed a bit and continued. "I had heard about the letter you wrote to one of the fellowships here in Rome, but I haven't had a chance to read it myself. I guess you could say, I've come here to learn."

Paul's smile grew until it almost touched his ears. "And I am always glad to teach, my friend."

For the next few hours, Ben remained completely transfixed on Paul's every word, soaking up as much wisdom as he could. He scarcely noticed when Paul got up to light a candle in the failing evening light. The sun was going down.

* * *

As the sun dipped behind the horizon, two figures darted in and out of the shadows dominating the alleys. Two young men with dry bundles of sticks headed toward the middle of town.

"Here," whispered one of the men to his partner. "If we start it here, it will catch all of the buildings for miles."

"Remind me why we're doing this again?" the second man asked.

"Nero wants to renovate the palace, and this is the only way he can make the room he needs. It's not for us to question his orders."

"But why are we dressed like civilians?" the second man complained. "We're members of the imperial guard. There is no honor in this."

"How much more honor will there be if Rome finds out Caesar burned down his own city, and we were the instruments he chose to do so?" the first man snapped. "Just light your torch and throw it in that window over there."

The second man produced flint and iron, striking one against the other until enough sparks were created to light the torches. Then, both men tossed the torches into a nearby open window and fled as smoke, flames, and panicked screams began to dominate the night.

* * *

**AN: **This chapter contains a lot of history, I know. In an effort to keep the setting of the story fairly simple for young minds, the creators of Storykeepers did little to explore the backgrounds of the characters. What information they did provide I've simply expanded upon, making assumptions based on what I know from church history and first-century Judaism. As for Paul being divorced, that is a theory that not all Christians agree upon. He could also be widowed. But since he was a "Pharisee of Pharisees," he had to have been married at some point. Needless to say, I've taken a little bit of historical license here. Paul's past relationships are mainly speculation on my part.

The reference to the "Way sect of Judaism" is from the first few chapters of Acts. Early Christians called themselves Followers of the Way, and were considered a sect among the Jews. The word Christian was first given to the Followers in Antioch. It was intended to be an insult, as it meant "little Christ," but the Followers took it as a compliment, and the name stuck. Similar instances have occurred since then, when people try to find insulting names for Christians, which Christians then gladly adopt to describe themselves. The term Jesus Freak is another example of this.

As for the fictional characters, Ben's backstory and name are completely canon. Helena's background is a little less clear, though it is implied that she is a Hellenistic Jew. Zak's father and uncle were zealots (called Zionists today). The name Keren means 'horn' or 'ray of light.' Originally her name was Kristin, a name I'd assigned her years ago as it was meant to be a transliteration of Christian. But I changed it to a Jewish name in order to keep it historically relevant.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**AN: **I'm taking some historical license here. The fire referenced by Storykeepers takes place in two parts: The historical fire of July 18, and a second, smaller fire in the same area mid-series. In the series, Nero is the clear cause of the second fire, when Nihilus gains permission to burn the merchant district (again) in an effort to flush out Christians hiding in the tunnels beneath the city. For this pre-series account, I'm going to combine several theories surrounding the July 18 fire, one of which being that Nero started the blaze as a means of renovating downtown Rome. Also, I'm having trouble finding a calendar that can tell me what day of the week July 18 fell on that year, but I'm going to say it was a Friday. I did find out that the full moon had occurred just two days before.

But enough history. Back to the story.

* * *

Keren rushed to get the food for that evening's meeting on the table. Helena stood at the window, growing more and more anxious. The sun was starting to approach the horizon.

"What's keeping him?" she wondered aloud.

"Relax, Mom," Keren said. "You knew this would probably happen. He'll be home soon enough."

"Unless he was captured by the Romans," Zak muttered.

"Zak, stop," Keren scolded. "Dad knows how to take care of himself. He's probably still talking to Paul. You know how much Dad wanted to meet him."

Helena sighed and turned away from the window. "I'm sure he's fine, too. Come on, let's finish getting everything ready for the meeting."

"Don't worry, Mom, God's taking care of him," Keren reassured her mother.

Helena nodded. "I know, but convincing myself of that is another story."

Once the table was set, the guests started arriving. They signaled their presence with a discreet knock on the back door, which opened to the alleyway. Zak was responsible for checking each guest in. He watched as each family made the sign of the ichthus, the code used by Greek and Roman Christians to identify one another. The ichthus was an acrostic of the Greek word for 'fish.' Each letter in the word was an initial in the phrase, "Jesus Christ, God's Son, Savior." Some people would simply draw an outline of a fish, while others wrote out the characters ΙΧΘΥΣ.

Soon the house was full. The sun had gone down, and Ben was still absent. It was at times like these when it fell to Helena to lead the meeting. As many in the little group still practiced the old Jewish customs, and this was the Sabbath, Helena called upon a family to lead the church in the Sabbath prayer. During the meal, Helena shared the story that Ben had prepared for the evening. The church members listened intently to the story of the man born blind, whom Jesus had healed, and who then stood up for Jesus before the Pharisees, resulting in his being thrown out of the synagogue and ostracized.

"That man learned that the truth is worth standing up and standing out. He was alone in society, but he was a part of a more important group: Those who suffer humiliation or even harm for the kingdom of God. He was a brave man, and we would do well to follow his example. We must take a stand for Jesus, who rescued us from sin and heals us from affliction, even if it means sacrificing our place in society."

The meal and the lesson over, people began mingling, enjoying one another's company. Helena went back to pacing by the window, genuinely worried. Ben had never been this late.

"There she goes again," Zak commented. "And who can blame her? Where is Ben?"

"He's talking to Paul," Keren reminded him, trying to keep the concern out of her own voice.

"For four straight hours?"

"Zak, you don't know how long it took him to get down to the docks. And Dad loves listening to stories as much as he does telling them. Besides, he wanted Paul to go over what he wrote to that other Roman church. Dad always commented that when Paul wrote, he wrote to every Christian in a given city, and not just to one fellowship. He's not gonna leave until he's heard everything Paul has to say."

"So then if he's not back in fifteen years, we go look for him?" Zak teased.

Keren swatted him playfully on the shoulder. "OK, fine, so he'll tear himself away sooner than that. Look, if I know my dad, he'll suddenly realize what time it is and literally race back here. He could burst through that door all out of breath any moment now, then start apologizing profusely to Mom."

Zak smiled at the mental image of Ben, sweaty and gasping for breath, begging Helena's forgiveness. Then something else caught his attention. Something burning. He sniffed. "Did you or your mom leave something in the oven?"

Keren shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of." She sniffed. "That smells like a bigger fire."

Suddenly the door burst open, and a man stood in the doorway, panting. It wasn't Ben, however. "Fire!" he gasped out. "Half the city's on fire! Our church...we were meeting when the fire broke out. It spread so quickly! We need help! There's people trapped! They told me to find this bakery; said Ben would help. Please!"

Helena rushed forward, calling for a cup of water. When it was produced, she gave it to the man. "Drink this slowly, and when you can breathe again, lead us there."

The man shakily held the cup to his lips and drank. When he finished, he said, "We don't have any time to lose. Can you help us?"

Helena nodded. "Zak, take some of the younger men and help them free anyone who is trying to get away from the fire. And for goodness' sake, be careful. Don't get too close to the buildings that are already engulfed. The rest of us will do what we can to slow the spread of the fire and help the wounded. Take food, bandages, and fill some buckets with water. Let's go!"

The guests scrambled to obey. Zak found an ax and led three boys around his age down toward the fire. Helena and the others weren't far behind. The man who had begged for help leaned on Keren for support as they made their way downtown in the direction of Nero's palace.

* * *

"...And so all Israel will be saved, just as it is written, 'The Deliverer will come from Zion, He will remove ungodliness from Jacob.' 'This is My covenant with them, when I take away their sins.'"

Ben was still listening intently as Paul went over his letter to the Roman church, completely unaware of the time, until Paul shifted the candle that sat on the table.

"Wha...what time is it?" Ben asked, suddenly aware of the candle in front of him. He glanced out the window. When he saw stars twinkling in the sky, he jumped to his feet. "Oh, no! I'm late for our meeting!"

Paul stood as well. "I am sorry, my friend. I also lost track of the time."

Ben waved him off. "It's not your fault. And I truly appreciate your time."

"The pleasure was all mine."

"I need to get home." Ben started for the door, but the guard intercepted him.

"Curfew's in effect," the burly man grunted.

"Please, I must get home to my wife," Ben pleaded. "She'll be worried sick about me."

"Nero's orders."

Ben groaned and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Sir, I don't suppose you have family..."

"What's that smell?" Paul said suddenly. "Like something burning. And I don't mean the candle."

Ben turned and glanced at the missionary, wondering what he was talking about, when suddenly he caught the scent as well. His eyes widened, and he rushed to the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the fire, wherever it was, hoping that it was nowhere near his bakery.

Just then the door burst open, and one of the guards who had been standing outside addressed the three of them. "A fire has broken out in the vicinity of Caesar's palace. It is spreading quickly, and the city is in lockdown. No one is allowed to go anywhere..." he cast a disproving glance at Ben and Paul. "Especially Jews and Christians."

"What's going on, Tullius?" the other guard asked.

Tullius' glare never strayed from the two Christians. "Pilus Nihilus came by on his way to the fire to check up on the prisoner. He told us that Nero suspects the fire is an act of arson. Some atheists who think they can defy the gods of Rome!"

The other guard turned to Paul. "Do you see what your letters have stirred up, old man? You and your cohorts are responsible for the destruction of Rome!"

"My friend, you can hardly blame us," Paul said, hands spread in a gesture of peace. "There must be a proper investigation, first."

"I'll blame who I want!" the guard snapped. "And you!" he jabbed a finger at Ben. "Looks like you'll have to cancel your plans for tonight. You're not going anywhere."

"But my family!" Ben protested.

"Silence!" Tullius snapped. "We have our orders. You're staying right here, until the emperor can determine your innocence...or guilt." With that, Tullius turned on his heel and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Ben went back to the window, straining to see what was going on. An orange glow now dominated the sky, and the screams of panicked citizens drifted down toward the docks.

"Please, Lord, take care of my wife and daughter," Ben prayed under his breath. "Keep them safe. Let me see them again."

"Come, let's pray together," Paul said. "It's the Sabbath, but I'm afraid for us, there will be no rest. We must battle this blaze from our knees."

Ben nodded and joined the man of God in fervent prayer for Rome.

* * *

Bucket after bucket passed from hand to hand as the residents of Rome's merchant district battled the flames that had engulfed their homes and those of their neighbors. People who had escaped from burning houses were taken to a small park nearby, where Helena supervised the tending to the wounded. Some burns were so severe that Helena had to fight the urge to deposit her Sabbath dinner on the ground nearby. There was nothing that smelled worse than burning human flesh, she decided.

Zak and Keren walked up, each supporting one member of an elderly couple rescued from a burning house. Both victims were suffering from smoke inhalation that caused them to cough and wheeze. The teens gently lowered their charges to the ground. Helena could see the sheer exhaustion on their faces, and Zak's in particular. He was covered in soot, with beads of sweat carving trails in the black ashes as they flowed down his face.

"How is it looking, Zak?" Helena asked.

"Not good. The fire's spreading too quickly, and there's no sign that Nero's going to get off his scrawny little butt anytime soon to do something about it. And there are dozens of people trapped. We just can't get to them all!"

"With all this fuel, this fire could burn for days," Keren said.

"And this is why people need to be careful with open flame in a wooden house," Zak grunted. But the complaint turned into a coughing fit.

"Zak, you should sit down and rest," Keren urged.

Zak waved her off. "No can do," he choked out. "Gotta help people get out."

"You can't spend all your energy at once," Keren chided. "We're in for the long haul, and you're no good to anyone if you wear yourself out early."

Helena handed Zak a cup of water. "Keren's right, Zak. You need to rest and regain your strength, or you'll become a liability rather than a rescuer."

Zak nodded and accepted the water. "M'kay, but just for a minute..." He laid down on the grassy lawn and promptly fell asleep.

Helena sighed and glanced up. To the east, she could distinguish the pink and orange hues of the coming dawn from the surreal glow of the flames around her. She sent a prayer heavenward concerning Ben's safety. There was no way of knowing if he would be able to find them in the chaos.

"Mom, look. Nero's sent help after all."

Helena turned and glanced in the direction Keren pointed. Guards rode into the square and immediately started shouting orders. Helena recognized one.

"It's Nihilus."

Nihilus was the most notorious centurion in his legion. He was known to be brutal to his enemies. And when he was truly enraged, no one dared get in his way. He also had an ego bigger than the entire Roman army.

The centurion began barking orders at the officers under his command, dividing them up and sending them different directions. They tore residents away from whatever task they were doing and assigned them to other areas. Though some objected to the rough treatment, most seemed happy that the manpower they needed had finally arrived.

One young officer, a man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties, approached Helena and her group of refugees. "You, woman, what are you doing?"

"I'm tending to the wounded who were rescued from the fire," Helena explained.

"And you are helping her?" the officer asked, directing his question at Keren.

"Yes, sir," Keren said with a slight nod.

The officer nodded. "The victims of the fire are too many. They are being divided into groups and scattered around safe areas of the city. We need people to tend to them. You will accompany me to a shelter, where we will give you what supplies we can spare to aid the wounded."

"If it's all the same, I'd rather stay here, with my mother."

"That wasn't a request," the officer said sternly.

"Tacticus!" Nihilus shouted. "This isn't a charity auction! You aren't supposed to be playing Mr. Nice Guy. Get those lazy dogs up and get them moving!"

Tacticus nodded. "You heard the man. Anyone who is strong enough to walk and give aid to others is to come with me, now. Girl, your mother can stay here to help these wounded, but you will not defy the orders of Rome again, do I make myself clear?"

Keren swallowed hard and nodded.

"Just go, Keren," Helena said. "We'll meet up after the fire is under control. I'll be fine."

Keren cast a glance at Zak, who seemed dead to the world. "Tell Zak not to worry about me," she said. "For that matter, tell Dad not to worry, whenever he gets here."

Helena nodded. "I will. Now go."

Keren turned and followed Tacticus and the small group of helpers to the shelter where she would spend the next several days.

* * *

**AN:** The verse Paul was quoting comes from Romans 11. I figured it was fitting, as it is part of the letter Ben's been wanting to read, and as it deals with the eventual salvation and restoration of Israel, which Ben would be excited to see.

More trivia: Since Jews and Christians taught that there is only one God, the pagan Romans, who had hundreds of gods, considered them atheists. This title seemed to the Romans all the more fitting for Christians, as the Romans believed that the God of the Christians, Jesus, was dead.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Ben paced nervously in the little room that was Paul's cell. He was tired—dead on his feet, in fact—but there was no way he would be able to rest. Not until he could be sure his family was safe. The prayer vigil had done little to comfort him, and the lack of motion was driving him nuts. Paul stayed where he was, fully accustomed to long hours on calloused knees. The guard lay slumped against a wall, snoring. Ben found his steps matching the rhythmic inhales and exhales of the Roman's noisy breaths.

"Lord, just give me a sign. Something that tells me they're okay."

"Sit down and rest awhile, my friend," Paul said.

Ben shook his head. "I can't sit still. I can't rest. I-I know I shouldn't worry...that God is in control. But it's my family! And I can't be there to protect them."

Paul nodded. "It's difficult seeing from a human standpoint that God has control. That's where faith comes in. Sit down, Ben, and let me tell you about a leg of my journey here, when my ship encountered a storm."

Ben opened his mouth to protest, but sighed instead, running a hand through his hair. "Alright. I'll try to rest a bit." He took a seat next to Paul.

The missionary leaned back against the wall and began his story. "The ship was about a day off the island of Malta. We had been battling a severe storm for several days and were many miles off course. We couldn't tell where we were. Everyone, even the prisoners with no sailing experience, had to pull their weight..."

* * *

Helena woke with a start. She glanced up to see Zak hovering above her, a hand on her shoulder. "Come on," he said. "They need us to transport the dead and wounded out of this area, then move on to the next section of the city."

Helena rubbed her eyes. "Oh...how long was I asleep?"

Zak shrugged. "Two hours, give or take? You had already fallen asleep when I woke up. Someone else had to explain what _they _were doing here." He gestured behind him to where a centurion stood, barking orders at civilians who were hauling rubble and bodies out of the streets. Behind them, in the distance, the fire continued on its rampage.

"It's not under control yet." Helena said, despair in her voice.

"Not yet," Zak said. "There's been talk going around that Nero wasn't concerned about the fire one bit until it started heading for his palace. Some people even said he sent someone out to set it."

"That's not very likely," Helena said. "Why would Nero want to risk destroying his own palace, and killing dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of citizens?"

"Because he's a psychotic nut case," Zak offered.

"Zak."

"What? It's true."

Helena stood. "What's true—and relevant right now—is that today is going to be hot, and probably windy. We need to get as many people out of the way of the fire as possible."

"Hundreds have already been evacuated," Zak explained. "The soldiers have everyone who can lift a bucket of water doing so. Nero's running around like a chicken with his head cut off, squawking about how important it is to save his precious palace."

"Those people will need a place to stay as well as food, water, and probably medical attention. Let's head back to the bakery and gather what we can." For the first time since her arrival in Rome nearly sixteen years earlier, Helena was suddenly exceedingly grateful Ben had opted not to put his bakery in the merchant district, in spite of her protests that the business would fail if he didn't. _It would certainly have been a failure now,_ she mused as she surveyed the damage the fire had left.

"I'll get Keren, and we'll meet you there," Zak said. "Where is she, anyway?"

"She's helping at a shelter somewhere else in town," Helena answered. "I don't know where exactly. A soldier by the name of Tacticus wanted her to take charge of the wounded in the shelter."

"You let some Roman soldier just take Keren and lead her who-knows-where in the city?" Zak cried. "What were you thinking?"

Helena scowled. "I think I know more about the welfare of my daughter than you do, Zak," she said sharply. "Keren will be fine. She's out of danger, and Tacticus was not harsh or demanding, just stern. And even if it had been my idea that she go, you have no right to belittle my decisions."

Zak scoffed. "Helena, what if he tries to make a move on her? What if he hurts her?"

"He had other concerns on his mind," Helena pointed out. "I saw nothing in his eyes that indicated he was a predator. He is a man doing his job."

That didn't comfort Zak a bit. "'Nothing in his eyes?' How do you know what a 'predator' looks like, especially in his eyes?"

Helena narrowed her eyes at him. "I grew up in Ephesus. Believe me, I am well aware of what to watch out for."

Zak shut up. He stood there, fists clenched. Finally he mumbled, "M'sorry. But I just...I have to make sure she's okay."

Helena softened. "I know. Go ahead and look for her. When you find her, let her know I'm going up to the head of the fire to help the evacuees. And Zak, be careful."

Zak nodded and took off at a run. Helena sighed and began the trek back to the bakery for supplies.

* * *

The shelter was overcrowded. Refugees staggered in with no more than the clothes on their backs and all degrees of burns. People coughed and hacked. Families cried out for missing or dead loved ones. Keren and her little makeshift staff were stretched thin. She had found herself in charge of caring for all the wounded that were being sent to the gymnasium that had been set up as a refugee center. It was exhausting work, and Keren had only managed to grab a half hour of sleep the entire time. She shook her head. The Sabbath shouldn't be spent like this. It was supposed to be a day of rest and celebration, not one of terror and tragedy.

"Some water, please," one of Keren's patients called out with a raspy voice.

Keren picked up a bucket and ladle and made her way over to the woman who had requested the water. The woman was one of the worst burn patients. With no immediate access to the type of treatment she desperately needed, she wasn't expected to last out the day. She must have been in incredible pain, yet she was trying not to show it. Keren gently lifted the woman's head and allowed her to sip the cool liquid.

"Better?"

The woman nodded. "Please," she said, "I have a daughter. She's eight years old. I sent her to the catacombs to keep her safe. My husband and I couldn't follow in time. Now her father is dead, and I...I want to make sure she's taken care of."

"You want to know where she is," Keren guessed.

"If you have seen or do see her. She was wearing a faded pink tunic. She has long brown hair. Her name is Anna. If you find her, tell her that her dad and I love her; that we'll meet again in heaven."

Keren swallowed to try and rid herself of the lump that was forming in her throat. She put a hand to the woman's forehead. It was hot. Infection had set in.

"I sent her to the house of the baker who lives in the Jewish district," the woman continued. "I have heard only good things about him; that he takes in and cares for children who have nowhere else to turn."

Keren smiled. "He is a wonderful man. He took in the son of a zealot who had been killed fighting for Israel."

"You know him?" The woman raised her head a bit, hope returning to her eyes.

"I know him very well," Keren answered. "He is my father. And I promise you, if your daughter finds her way to the bakery, he will not turn her away. And I will watch for her, too."

The woman laid her head back down and smiled peacefully. "Thank you. Thank you so much. God bless you and your family."

Keren took the woman's hand and stroked the last little bit of skin she had there that wasn't covered in bandages. She sat like that for an hour, until the woman finally drifted off to sleep, too tired to be kept awake by her pain. It was then that Keren went back to work.

A few hours later the burned woman breathed her last, just one of many hundreds of victims of the flames.

* * *

A hard knock on the door startled Ben and Paul into full alertness. Paul had finished his story, and he and Ben had once again taken up their prayer vigil. The door opened, and Tullius came in. He gestured to Ben.

"You, baker. There's a centurion outside with orders to bring you to the palace. You're going to help distribute food to the soldiers and men fighting the fire. Let's go!"

Ben breathed a prayer of relief. He was finally going to have an opportunity to search for his family.

Paul put a hand on Ben's shoulder as he stood. "God go with you, my friend. I will keep your family and church in my prayers, even after the fire is out."

Ben grasped Paul's hand in both his own. "Thank you, Paul. I'll be praying for you as well. God bless you."

"Baker!" Tullius demanded.

Ben sighed and turned to leave. Once outside, he turned to wave good-bye to Paul, who stood in the doorway. But Paul's attention was on the centurion waiting for Ben.

"Ah, you'll have to watch that one, sir. I hear he can be something of a troublemaker. Seems his bread is so addictive, even Caesar cannot go a day without it. The man will control Rome with little more than dough." Paul winked at the centurion.

The soldier responded with a hard face, but one look at his eyes and Ben could tell the man was holding back a chuckle. "It is no concern of yours, Paul. We Romans know how to handle your people. Why should this baker be any different?"

"Well, the scoundrel was telling me how he won the heart of his wife."

Ben could feel the red creeping up his neck. Paul laughed, drawing a smile from the centurion.

"It's nothing I can't handle," the man assured the missionary. "Now, I suggest you stay indoors and out of the way. This fire is nowhere near contained. We can't have you becoming a liability."

Paul nodded. "Good day to you, then, sir." With that, he turned and retreated into his little house.

The centurion steered Ben in the direction of the palace. "Let's go," he barked.

"Y-yes sir," Ben stuttered, still unsure of how to respond to the man.

Once they were out of earshot of the other guards, the centurion spoke. "You know Paul well, baker?"

Ben shrugged. "Well, I...only met him last night. But I'd heard so much about him."

The centurion nodded. "Mm...I was in charge of bringing him to Rome. I was shipwrecked with him on Malta."

"He was telling me about that," Ben said, glancing up at the man with a smile.

"Eyes to the front," the centurion snapped. "You're a foreigner in my custody."

Ben obeyed.

The centurion reached into his tunic and produced a pendant that looked like a wheel with eight spokes. "Have you seen these before, baker? They are often seen in Asia. When etched in stone, the vertical spoke is drawn first, followed by an 'X.' Then the circle is drawn, with the horizontal spoke. Retrace the top spokes of the 'X' and the bottom spoke. Finally, trace the Greek letter sigma along one side. The result is the Greek word for 'fish,' all contained within this wheel."

Ben's eyes widened. "I have seen that symbol many times," he answered. "My wife is from Asia. The church there used this symbol to mark their hiding places. Eh, my name is Ben, by the way. You're a Christian?"

"My name is Casius Marcellus," the centurion said. "I don't know if Paul named names in the story he told you."

"Just Luke, the physician. A man I have no doubt we could use on a day like this."

Casius nodded grimly. "Well, as I said, I was among those who washed up on the shore of Malta. I saw Paul get bitten by that viper. Luke himself was amazed that Paul suffered no ill effects. The Maltese people thought Paul must be a messenger from the gods. It turns out he was a messenger from one God—a God he had spent a good portion of the voyage trying to convince me was the only God I ever needed. But I didn't believe him until I saw the shipwreck and how everyone survived, just as Paul prophesied. I was still skeptical until Paul woke the morning after the snake bite, with little more than two puncture wounds and a little bit of swelling on his hand. It was then that I knew that there is only one God I need, and that's the one true God."

"It must be difficult living as a Christian in the Roman guard," Ben said.

"It is. Every day my faith, loyalty, and intelligence are tested. I guess since I'm still alive and free, I must be more clever than I once thought. Either that, or God has to expend a lot of grace on me."

Ben chuckled. "Well, He has plenty to spare."

"I have actually encountered the most resistance from the Zionists," Casius said. "Even the handful of Zionists who are Christians look at me with suspicion. They don't believe my story."

"I know someone like that," Ben said with a grin. "A young man we took in as a boy. He wouldn't be too thrilled to see me walking beside a Roman centurion right now."

"This fire must not be helping his attitude toward us. What's his name? Perhaps I can find him; have him assigned to the palace to work with you."

Ben shook his head. "It's better he stay with my wife and daughter, if it's at all possible. I'm sure there are looters around who would love to take advantage of the chaos. Some of them can be dangerous, and Zakkai is more than qualified to deal with them if they threaten my family. He's only 16, but he has all the passion and fury of a hundred Zionists. Now, if only he would stop and think before he acts."

"Weren't we all that impulsive at that age?"

Ben smiled. "I suppose some of us were worse than others. But I trust Zak. Not necessarily to think rationally, particularly where his own safety is concerned, but I do trust him to watch out for my family when I'm not around. He's like a watchdog, especially with Keren, my daughter."

"Hmm...Love is in the air, I presume?"

Ben couldn't hold back the laughter. "He's definitely smitten with her. And though Keren won't admit it, the feeling is quite mutual. They've been best friends since childhood."

"From such children come other children," Casius teased.

"Not without a canopy," Ben stated. "I love Zak like my own son, but I won't allow him to give me grandchildren until he's officially my son-in-law. Which could happen sometime in the next few years, at the rate things are going between him and Keren."

"Well, God will allow it to happen in His timing," Casius said. "That's one of the first things I learned traveling with Paul."

"Oh, indeed."

"Hush, now. We're coming into town. I know there aren't many people around; they're all down at the fire. But nonetheless, we have to maintain our appearance."

"Of course," Ben acknowledged before falling silent for the remainder of the trip.

* * *

As they passed through the burned out areas of town, Ben stared in awe, fighting back tears. People wandered dazed through the streets, ignoring soldiers' demands to stay out of the way. Adults and children alike cried out for friends and family. Dead bodies lay alongside the road, unburied, in the summer sun. The smell of burnt flesh was truly nauseating, and Ben wished he could hold his breath long enough to get through the worst of it. But there was no telling where the line of devastation would end. What made matters worse was the wind. The breeze had picked up as the sun approached high noon, and the buildings that were still standing funneled the moving air through the city, along the burn-out zones.

Casius stared ahead grimly. "That wind will only fuel that fire. It'll be harder still to contain. Rome has already been decimated."

After what seemed like hours of picking their way along rubble-filled streets, the pair reached the palace. Ben saw that Nero's villa had not escaped the flames, but it had also not fared as badly as the rest of the structures around it. Half of the elaborate building had suffered some kind of smoke damage, and one wing was all but leveled. Ben could see that the fire had gutted a good portion of the palace. The kitchen where he had frequently worked was in ruins.

Ben followed Casius around to the back where Caesar's personal guard, Snivelus, was recording everyone working there.

"A shopkeeper? Well, you can serve Caesar by helping manage the food distribution. Off you go now. And what is your trade, good sir?"

"Snivelus!"

Ben recognized that sound. It was the whiny voice of one of Rome's shortest emperors.

Nero walked up to Snivelus in a huff. Which was how he usually walked. An array of servants trailed him, one trying to keep him shaded with a large dock leaf, and others carrying food or clothes.

"Snivelus, where are my builders? We must get my palace rebuilt now!"

"Of course, Caesar," Snivelus whined. "We're trying, sire, but the builders are helping set up shelters for the homeless."

"Well whose harebrained idea was that?" Nero groused.

"Oh, it was your harebrained idea, Caesar," Snivelus answered pleasantly. When he realized what he said, he quickly backpedaled. "That is, it was your very clever and wise idea. You said you need the loyalty of the people, so you set up shelters to help them. Mustn't have them thinking you set the fire..."

"_I _**_didn't_ **set the fire!" Nero screamed. "I already told you, it was those Christians!"

Ben and Casius glanced nervously at one another. Christian arsonists? Could it be true?

Casius cleared his throat. "Hail Caesar! I've brought your baker, as ordered. He's here to oversee the production and distribution of bread to our soldiers.

Nero waved him off. "Yes, yes, get on with it, then. Can't you see I'm busy? Snivelus, tell those builders to hurry. I want a place to sleep tonight!"

"Yes, Caesar," Snivelus said.

Nero turned to leave, but not before glancing over his shoulder at Ben. "Well? Don't just stand there, man, get on with it!"

"Yes, Caesar," Ben said, feigning the sycophancy Snivelus was so adept at.

Snivelus led Ben to a makeshift kitchen, where men and women scrambled to prepare and pack food for the fire crews. Ben immediately set to work with the palace bakers, churning out bread in assembly line fashion. While he worked, Ben kept an eye out for other familiar faces, praying that Helena and the kids were alright.

* * *

**AN: **This may be the last chapter featuring a biblical character for a while. But I promise, there will be more names you recognize soon enough. R&R, please. Constructive criticism welcome. Flames will be doused, as Rome currently cannot afford to deal with anymore fire.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Zakkai pushed his way through crowds of spectators who had come from all corners of the city to watch the fire. The teen's patience was wearing thin. He hated to agree with the Roman soldiers, but if these people weren't going to make themselves useful, then they really shouldn't be here. Getting information from the crowds was fruitless. No one knew where the shelters were set up, and those that might have had an answer simply glanced at Zak in disgust when he tried to describe Keren.

"What are two youngsters from the Jewish district doing here anyway? This isn't your place. Go back to your own land, boy."

Zak had to literally bite his tongue to hold back his retort. _Romans are all bigots!_

As crowds moved away from the rubble and abandoned fire-damaged buildings, other less honorable citizens took advantage of the vacated areas of the city. Looters moved from house to house, picking off what they could. Some targeted the homes of people who had simply come out to watch the fire. Zak smirked. _Serves them right. If they're leaving their houses unguarded just so they can watch other people suffer, they deserve to lose everything to looters._

His condoning attitude was cut short when he approached a group of looters and overheard their conversation.

"Those fools left their homes unguarded. Everything here is ours for the taking."

"Yes, but much of this stuff has been damaged by heat or smoke. There's still one place in Rome that the fire has not spread to or even threatened. The people who live there are foreigners, and most of them were called out by the soldiers to help with the fire. And many of them have more than they need to live. Some, like that baker, live better than many Roman citizens."

"Well I doubt we'd be the first ones there, then. You know what an opportunist that gang leader Martinus is."

"And he's brutal, too, especially with Jews and other inferior races."

The looters laughed and dragged their spoils into the alley, arguing about which house to hit next. Zak's heart pounded in his throat. They had been talking about raiding Ben's bakery. Helena was on her way back to the bakery—alone! Zak spun on his heel and took off in the direction of the bakery. He had to reach Helena before this Martinus' gang did.

* * *

The Jewish district was all but completely abandoned when Helena arrived at the bakery. Everyone was out helping fight the fire. She quickly set to work gathering supplies for the workers—bread, bandages, blankets—and stuffed them all into the largest basket she could find. She gathered baskets of similar size and placed as much bread and food as they could spare in the baskets. She then put all her baskets on Ben's pastry cart. She sighed to herself. Ben obviously hadn't been able to get back to the bakery because of the fire. Perhaps he was helping with the relief effort elsewhere in town, and she would have to wait to meet up with him later.

Helena had just finished packing the cart when the door swung open, and four men entered. Helena turned, expecting Ben, Zak, or even Keren. She gasped when she saw the men. The four of them flanked Helena and the cart.

"Well well, what have we here?" the leader sneered. "Little Jewish housewife packing up all her goodies. Aw, ma'am, this stuff is too much for you to take alone. Let us help you."

Helena heard her heart pounding in her ears. She backed up against the cart. "I think I can handle it alone, thank you. These are donations for those who have been displaced by the fire." She wasn't sure why she was trying to appeal to their sympathy. She was sure they had none.

The leader looked around at his men and back at Helena. "What a coincidence. We were just wondering where we were going to sleep tonight, given that the houses that made up our little alleyway are now rubble. We've been displaced. Guess that means we're entitled to all this stuff, huh?"

The other three men chuckled wryly.

"And we've even done you a favor. We saved you a trip by coming to you, instead of making you come to us."

With that, he grabbed Helena by the arm and forced her aside. He then proceeded to check the contents of the cart.

"Bread and blankets. And what are these? Medical supplies? After today, these will fetch a nice price on the black market. But I think you can do better than this. Boys, see what else the good baker has in his larders."

The other three men fanned out, opening cupboards and rooting through closets. One man made his way into the adjoining bedroom. Another eventually headed out to the stable. Helena heard the squawking of the chickens as their coop was raided.

Helena attempted to squirm away from the leader, but he held her arm tight. Eventually the other men returned with armfuls of stuff. The man who had raided the stables held a loudly protesting hen in his hands.

"Good chickens, good eatin'" he said, grinning through cracked, yellow teeth.

The leader looked at Helena, studying her for a moment. "Well, since you were planning on bringing this stuff anyway, you can come with us and help set up a nice little place out of the way of the fire. Just you and me...and Grinius, here..." he gestured to the man holding the chicken. "It would be awful charitable of you to keep ol' Martinus company." He grinned suggestively at her. Helena swallowed.

_Lord, help me!_

Suddenly Martinus found the blade of a sword at his throat. Zak appeared in his field of vision, glaring with all the venom he could muster. "Let. Her. Go."

Martinus assessed the situation, then smiled confidently. "A boy. One boy with one blade, against Martinus and his gang. Have you had these suicidal thoughts for long, boy?"

"Funny, I was just about to ask you the same question," Zak shot back. He pressed the sword point harder against Martinus' neck. The movement startled Martinus, and he loosened his grip on Helena's arm. She pulled away and backed up behind Zak.

"Zak, don't do anything rash," she warned.

Zak held his gaze on Martinus, who began reaching for a long knife he kept concealed in his cloak. The other men followed suit. Grinius looked around, wondering how he was going to get ahold of his knife without losing the chicken. He released the bird with one hand to go for his knife. The hen seized the opportunity and leaped away from her captor, squawking as she shot across the bakery.

The chicken startled Zak, and he looked away from Martinus for a split second. It was all the distraction Martinus needed. He swung his knife up, knocking Zak's sword from his hand. The weapon clattered to the floor several cubits away.

"You obviously don't know how to use a sword," Martinus said, pointing his knife at Zak. "Pitiful."

Zak glowered at him. "So I'm still learning. That doesn't mean I can't take you."

Martinus laughed. "How are you planning on doing that, boy? When I'm done with you, all that'll be left is a heavily perforated meal for the local flea-bitten feral mutts."

"That's what you think." It was all Zak could come up with. His mind was preoccupied with planning his next move.

The two rivals stared each other down for a brief, tense moment. Helena glanced around nervously, looking for a chance to grab Zak and escape. But the other three men were blocking the only exits to the building.

Martinus prepared to make his move, drawing his arm back slightly to strike, while at the same time preparing to cut Zak off—literally—if the younger man tried to go for his sword. But Zak had something else in mind. He faked a jump at the sword, then suddenly lunged the other way. In the process he grabbed Martinus' arm as the thug went to strike, pushing him out of the way and knocking the knife from his hand. While Martinus floundered to regain his balance, Zak dove for his sword, sweeping the knife off the ground in the process. And before Martinus could rise to his full height he found his own blade at his throat alongside Zak's sword.

Martinus swallowed hard. "Very good. You have talent."

"And you have thirty seconds to clear out of here," Zak stated, his steel gaze never leaving Martinus' eyes.

Martinus glanced around at his companions, who stood somewhat dumbfounded. "Well, the pickin's here aren't that great anyway. There are plenty of greener pastures. C'mon, boys."

He started to move toward the doors, while his companions shifted nervously. They had never seen anyone without a uniform get the best of their leader.

Seeing that his subordinates weren't moving, Martinus turned and snapped, "Well, get moving, you useless flea-bitten mutts!" The others scrambled to obey, slinking out of the bakery like dogs with their tails tucked between their legs—making Martinus' insult seem very fitting.

Zak watched them leave, glaring after them even after they had made their way across the street. Then he turned to Helena. "Are you okay?"

Helena let out the breath she'd been holding. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you, Zak."

Zak nodded grimly. "I overheard some looters talking about a gang heading for the bakery. I think I ran a four minute mile." He gave her a slight smile.

Helena returned the grin. "Well, that would explain the dark patches on your tunic under your arms."

Zak glanced at his arm pits. "Well...it's gonna be a warm day. I need to keep cool somehow. Anyway, we should get this stuff to the people in the burn-out zones." He gestured to the cart of supplies.

"Has Keren come back yet? Have you seen Ben?" Helena asked.

Zak clenched his jaw as he picked up the handles on the cart. "No. I say we go look for them after we drop this stuff off."

Helena nodded. "We'll start up at the palace. The centurion who assigned Keren to the shelter can tell us where she is. And Ben may be there, too. He could have been grabbed on his way back from Paul's house and ordered to help with the relief effort."

"Let's go, then," Zak said.

* * *

After dropping off the supplies with some Christian friends, Helena and Zak headed in the direction of the palace. They didn't arrive at their destination until the afternoon. By then, the sun was beating down brutally, and the wind had picked up. Dust devils swirled around. In the distance, the wind carried smoke and flames skyward in fiery tornadoes. Helena watched the flames continue to blaze their trail of destruction.

"How long will this go on?" she mumbled. Inwardly she kept up the same prayer vigil she had started when they first heard the news of the fire. And it was exhausting. She hadn't slept in over 24 hours, and she hadn't eaten since sunset the previous day. Strength was added to her list of petitions for the Almighty.

Zak stopped suddenly as they approached the palace grounds. Weary refugees scrambled to rebuild or repair portions of the palace. Others with injuries or who were too young or old to work were huddled in groups under awnings in the courtyard. It seemed Nero had given families permission to stay on palace grounds in exchange for their help in rebuilding. Servants and "volunteers" ran about, distributing food, water and bandages to the workers and soldiers. Helena struggled to catch a glimpse of Ben or Keren in the crowd.

Suddenly Zak placed a hand on her shoulder. "Helena, over there!"

Helena looked in the direction he was pointing and gasped in relief. Ben was giving bread to one of the men working on the palace. She waved her arm and called out to him.

"Ben!"

Ben looked up. "Helena! Zak!" He gave the worker a quick God-bless-you and ran to greet them. He and Helena embraced, holding onto one another tightly.

"I was so worried," Helena said. "I had no idea where you were."

"I'm sorry," Ben responded. "I lost track of time. And when I realized what time it was, I started to leave, but the guards stopped me. They'd placed everyone in Rome not in the path of the fire under a strict curfew. I wasn't sure where the fire was burning. I prayed you were alright." Suddenly Ben looked at Helena, confusion and worry etched on his face. "Where's Keren?"

"She was sent to help at a shelter. We're looking for the centurion who assigned her."

Ben sighed. "She'll be safe, then. But tired. Like you. Helena, you need to rest."

Helena shook her head. "There's too much work to do."

Ben smiled. "Helena, it is the Sabbath. And you look like you haven't slept or eaten since yesterday. Come, there's a place for you to stay here. Nero's opened his palace to the relief workers in order to keep up his public image."

Helena allowed herself to rub her eyes. "Alright, I'll rest, but just for a while. We need to track down Keren."

"We will. And if not us, then Zak will stop it nothing to find her." He sent Zak a playful grin. Zak blushed.

Ben led Helena to a place where she could lay down. Helena curled up on the blanket Ben laid out and quickly fell asleep, claiming she only planned to close her eyes for a few minutes. Ben smiled as he sat with his exhausted wife for a few minutes. He was tired as well. His prayer vigil with Paul had left him almost drained. But knowing his family was safe for the time being helped to restore some of his strength. He sent a prayer heavenward for Keren's continued protection, then got up and went back to distributing rations, enlisting Zak's help as well.

* * *

Keren sat down with a cup of water and a piece of bread of her own. This was her first break since coming to the shelter. Outside the wind howled. Keren could only imagine how terrified everyone in the path of the fire must have been, knowing the wind only fueled the blaze and drove it onward with a vengeance. _Lord, keep my family safe. Especially Zak. He can be way too overzealous sometimes._

Keren was about to get up to go back to work when a new group of refugees stumbled in, driven there by soldiers. They looked little worse for wear. Most were covered in soot and had heavy bags under their eyes from lack of sleep, but they were uninjured and walking.

Tacticus took up a spot in the middle of the group. He glanced around, observing the injured lying on the floor and the volunteers standing nervously, watching the soldiers. The newcomers fidgeted. Against the wall, Tacticus saw the sheet-covered bodies of victims who had died from their injuries, the workers unable to properly treat them in time. He set his jaw and began barking out his orders.

"Nero has ordered that a new shift take over here. Those of you who have been working since yesterday evening are to come with me. You will be reporting to Nero's temporary headquarters at Senator Patronius' villa outside the city."

Keren was relieved to hear that. Patronius was one of her father's first friends since his arrival in Rome. He treated Keren like a favored niece. Most of the nice things Keren had received growing up came from Patronius. She made a mental note to ask Patronius to track down her family and let them know she was alright. Although she had to wonder why they were leaving the city.

By sundown, the group arrived at the villa. Keren tried not to give any indication that she knew the place or the owner. She wasn't sure if Nero knew about Patronius, but she did know Nero tended to be biased against Christians, and would never allow one to remain in his Senate. Nor would he want a "Jew sympathizer."

The group was brought before Nero. The centurion Keren had heard Tacticus call Nihilus glowered at them in disgust. Keren felt as though he was especially irritated by her presence. He seemed to glare at her the longest.

Finally he spoke. His voice was gruff and unmerciful. Clearly he meant business. "You have been called here to account for the fire. We now know it was an act of arson, and it is Caesar's wish to apprehend and punish the guilty parties. Anyone who was involved in or knows those involved in setting the fire will step forward now!"

No one moved. Some looked at one another in confusion, while most developed a sudden and keen interest in their sandals. Only Keren kept her gaze on Nihilus, trying to read him for any clues as to where he was going with this.

Nihilus smirked. "Don't toy with me. I know some of you here are involved. There are a considerable number of Christians in this city—too many for my liking, or Nero's." He raised his voice to mock child-likeness. "And to think, that gullible Senator Patronius has a soft spot for 'Rome's loyal citizens.' Well, you'll get no help from him. The senator is currently occupied in other parts of the city."

Keren's heart sank. Nihilus was clearly blaming Christians for the fire, and Patronius was nowhere around. She was on her own. Still, she remained silent. But someone else spoke up.

"Sir, I don't understand."

Nihilus singled the speaker out and strode up to him. The centurion towered over the civilian, a small man in his late 40s. "It's simple. Nero has determined that Christians are responsible for the fire, and I know you know some. Now, tell me who they are, and you'll be allowed to go back to what's left of your pitiful existence."

The poor man flinched as drops of saliva landed on his face while Nihilus spoke. He started to tremble. "I-I don't know any Christians, sir."

Nihilus drew his sword, causing the man to visibly break out in a sweat. "Then you are of no use to us, are you?"

"Nihilus!"

Nihilus turned to respond to the high-pitched, whiny voice behind him. Nero came into view, tailed by his entourage of servants. "Have you had any success?"

"Hail Caesar!" Nihilus greeted with a salute. "No, sire, these dogs refuse to come forward."

Nero stroked his chin. "Well then we'll have to punish the lot of them for their incompetence and just hope we've caught some secret Christians along with them. Take the women and sell them to the merchants down at the docks tomorrow morning, and throw the men in jail. They'll make wonderful bait for the lions at the next games."

Gasps rippled through the group as the judgment was pronounced. When guards moved to separate men from women, the terrified civilians began pleading for their lives or freedom, listing families and children as reasons to be allowed to go free. But the guards were unmoved.

"Tacticus," Nihilus barked. "Take the women down to the docks and put them under guard. And tomorrow, when the slave markets open..." he rubbed his hands together, "perhaps the overseers of Venus' temple will be looking to add a few new recruits."

Karen's heart leaped into her throat. The look Nihilus gave the women was completely predatorial. _God, not the temple! _She had heard nothing but horror stories from that section of town. Only her parents had been down there, ministering to the girls kept in the brothel at Venus' temple by feeding them and praying for them. They had forbidden her to accompany them on these outreaches, saying she "just wasn't ready" to see that kind of pain. Her mother was especially adamant about it. Whenever they returned from such an outing, Ben always seemed to have a protective arm around Helena. Any woman who strayed too close to the temple was liable to end up among the temple prostitutes, and Ben knew it. But Helena had known prostitutes growing up in Ephesus, and she refused to remain oblivious to their suffering. Yet at the same time she didn't want to expose her daughter to it...yet. Now, it seemed Keren wouldn't have a choice.

Tacticus rounded up the women and led them away, still protesting. Some shuddered under Nihilus' gaze, and others whispered to one another, each seemingly competing to come up with the worst of many worst-case scenarios. Keren remained silent, pleading with God to protect them and deliver her to her parents.

* * *

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Dawn came obscured by the still-thick clouds of smoke in the north and east. Keren was thoroughly exhausted. She had spent the night tossing and turning, praying that she would be reunited with her family, or at the very least, sold to someone other than the owner of the brothel at the temple.

Guards roused the women and urged them forward, down the rubble-filled streets to the docks. Keren wondered how any merchants would want to be anywhere near Rome with the fire still blazing. But when the women arrived at the slave docks, they were greeted by merchants of all kinds, each vying for the best imports Rome had to offer, as if they were stocking up in preparation for Rome's almost certain economical collapse.

Keren and the other women were unceremoniously lined up so that merchants or their representatives could get a good look at them. Stern, no-nonsense men looked over each woman, selecting those most suited for a variety of tasks in their masters' households. One representative for a Phoenician merchant seemed to be collecting farmhands for his master in Carthage. He passed several fair-skinned, thin women over, muttering something about not being able to take the Carthagean sun.

Keren also noticed some men looking the women—especially the younger ones—up and down with lust-filled eyes. She shuddered. Perhaps these were owners of brothels. She tried to look as inconspicuous as possible, studying the ground in front of her feet. But when a shadow fell across her sandals, she couldn't help but glance up fearfully.

The face she saw in front of her seemed stern, but gentle. He ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. From the look of him, Keren guessed that he was originally from somewhere in Asia Minor.

"What's your name, girl?"

Keren swallowed hard before answering. "Keren, sir."

"And you are from Rome?"

Keren nodded.

"You don't look Roman. Is your father a citizen?"

Keren remained silent. She didn't know where this man was going with his questions, and it made her even more nervous.

"Answer me!" the man demanded.

"No, sir, he's not."

"Your name sounds Jewish."

Keren looked the man in the eye. "My father was forced to emigrate to Rome from Galilee in Israel."

"And that's why you're here?"

"I'm here because Christians have been accused of setting the fire, and Nero is taking his anger out on us."

"You will address the emperor as Caesar," Tacticus said sternly. "He is a god, after all, even if he's not your God. You must show him respect."

The man before Keren smirked. "Come now, sir, these Jews respect no gods but their own. It's how they were raised. That's why the emperor sought to drive as many of them out of Rome as he could afford about ten years back. So why don't I give him a hand and take one Jewess out of Rome for him? My master is looking for some farm hands, as well as an in-home servant. He and the missus are so busy at social events, and they need a live-in babysitter." He turned his gaze back to Keren. "And I'm sure you have plenty of experience in that area."

Keren shrugged. It wasn't unusual for neighbors to ask her or Helena to watch their children for a few hours, and Zak wasn't the only child the family had fostered over the years.

Tacticus nodded. "It's no concern of mine what your master wants with a slave girl. Simply pay the price asked for her and be on your way."

Some bargaining later, and the merchant's representative was granted custody of Keren. He directed her to a waiting ship, which would take them out of Rome and God-knew-where on the sea. Upon boarding, the man who bought Keren did something that so surprised her she nearly stumbled and collapsed on the deck. The man produced a wheel with eight spokes and asked her, "What creature do you see in this?"

Keren immediately recognized the symbol. Unlike the fish, a sign her parents had etched on the bakery door, this sign was never used in Rome, but Helena had told Keren it meant the same thing as the fish, and was frequently used in Asia. Hesitantly, Keren answered, "I see a fish."

"And what names does this fish proclaim?"

"Ieosus Christos, Theou Uios, Soter." Jesus Christ, God's Son, Savior.

The man pocketed the wheel, then whispered to Keren, "You will be safe with me. My master is also a Christian, and he will see to it that you are well cared for in Colossae."

"Colossae?!" Keren cried. "But my parents..."

"You may be reunited with them one day, but not today. Rome has become too dangerous for Christians. If your parents have any sense, they will leave Rome and travel back to Israel, which means they will have to pass through Asia. Then you may meet up with them, but for your own sake, you must leave Rome yourself."

Keren's heart sank. For all she knew, Nero had already captured her father and Zak, and sentenced them both to death. Her mother could be sold as a slave to a man with far less compassion than this Colossian Christian Keren was now to serve. And they would all be worried sick about her. What if they thought she was dead? She sighed, knowing full well this was the price Christians often had to pay. If her parents were ready to pay the price, then so was she.

"My parents won't leave Rome as long as God has work for them to do there," Keren stated resolutely. "I don't know why God is bringing me to Colossae, but I'm going to follow Him as my parents do."

Her escort nodded. "That's the spirit. My master, Philemon, sent me to retrieve a letter from Paul to a pastor friend of his in Ephesus. He's in constant correspondence with Paul. So once we arrive, you will be able to write your parents and assure them of your safety."

Keren smiled for the first time in days. "My father met Paul recently. I still haven't had the opportunity to hear what Paul told him. But at least I can let Dad know that I'm safe with one of Paul's friends...even if it is in Asia. Who knows, I might even run into some relative on my mother's side. She has cousins in Colossae and a brother in Ephesus."

"See, things aren't turning out so bad for you after all."

"Not for me, no," Keren said, turning her gaze to the fires that had by now engulfed half of Rome. "But there are a lot of hurting people in Rome that I desperately wish I could join my parents in helping."

* * *

Helena woke with a start and sat up quickly. She glanced skyward, trying to estimate what time it was. But the smoke and haze cast everything in a weird light, and thick clouds obscured the sun. Helena hoped they were rain. In the meantime, ash from the fire fell like snow. Helena rose from the ground and looked around for Ben and Zak. She found Ben not too far from where she had been laying, sound asleep. She smiled. Ben had been running on empty since the fire started. He'd earned a rest. But first...

Helena gently nudged Ben awake. He moaned and stirred, but Helena put a hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to stay put.

"Where did Zak go?" she asked.

Ben yawned. "He's over on the other side of the palace grounds, helping the carpenters put up braces on some of the outbuildings. When did you wake up?"

"Just a few minutes ago. But I know I've been asleep for hours."

Ben nodded. "I'm pretty sure I dozed off here about an hour ago myself."

"Any word on Keren?"

"No, but Zak's been going from project to project searching for her."

Helena rubbed her eyes with a hand. "I'm going to go help him. I'll let you rest a while longer."

Ben nodded sleepily. "Not too much longer. Don't let me sleep past sunset."

Helena promised to wake him and headed off to find Zak. When she located him, he was on top of one of the palace awnings, nailing shingles in place to seal holes.

"Zak, how are you doing?"

Zak waved and called back to Helena, "I've been searching everywhere for Keren or someone who's seen her. She hasn't been up by the palace at all."

Helena sighed. It had been nearly two days since Keren had been taken from them, and Helena was really starting to worry. She could only hope that Keren had been kept out of the path of the fire. She decided, however, to not waste anymore time, and volunteered to help treat the wounded. At least it would help her get her mind on something else for a while.

* * *

As the sun approached the horizon, Ben slept on, exhausted from the past few days' work. Suddenly he was awoken by someone shaking him firmly.

"Ben, wake up."

Ben's eyes snapped open at the sound of the urgency in the voice. Above him stood Casius. Ben sat up. "What's wrong, Casius?"

The centurion looked around nervously. "Nero's back, and he has Paul with him. Paul and several civilians are being taken to the stockade. Nero is blaming Christians for the fire without any proof, but he doesn't need any. He thinks he's a god, and this fire's given him the perfect excuse to flaunt his so-called divinity. The fact is, Paul's not long for this world, and you're not safe here. You need to take your family and go home. Better yet, get out of Rome. It's only a matter of time before Nero comes after you, too."

Ben stood. "But, Paul is a Roman citizen. Surely Nero wouldn't accuse and execute him without a fair trial? We know Paul is innocent. He has an alibi."

Casius shook his head. "None of that matters to Nero. Paul is a threat, not just as a Jew, but also as a Christian. And Nero will find any excuse to do away with him. Think about what that means for you. Nero's insane, Ben. He will kill you if you give him the chance. He'll be rounding up people for questioning. Get your family and get away from here."

"But my daughter..."

"Is obviously not here," Casius finished. "Listen, if she shows up here, I will personally provide her an escort back to your bakery. Do you see that palace slave over there? The tall man with the bald head."

Ben looked in the direction Casius was pointing and nodded.

"That's Darius," Casius said. "He's a Syrian Christian. Leave instructions for me, and I'll relay them to him. He can bring your daughter to you if I find her, and he can deliver any information I might gather on Paul's condition."

"God bless you, friend," Ben said. "My bakery is in the Jewish district, not far from the edge of the merchant district, but so far out of the way of the fire. It'll have the sign of the fish on the door."

Casius nodded. "I'll send Darius with a message as soon as I'm able. Things are about to get pretty tough, Ben. Be prepared."

Ben squared his jaw and nodded. "We're prepared to pay whatever price is required to follow Jesus."

"I hate to say it, but I hope you've had some...training, as it were, in giving up everything for Christ."

"I'm dead to my family in Israel. Does that count?"

Casius smiled grimly. "Honestly, that's more experience than I have. All I can do is hope I've got what it takes."

"The Lord is faithful, Casius. When the moment comes, He will provide the strength."

"I hope you're right," Casius said. "Get going, now. Your wife and young friend are on the other side of the palace grounds."

Ben clasped Casius' arm in his own hands and took off in the direction Casius indicated. It was time for Ben to prepare his church to go into covert operations, and he had work to do.

* * *

Getting back to the bakery wasn't difficult. The streets were all but empty, as those who had stayed in Rome opted to stay indoors. The fire was old news now, and spectators had decided it was better to secure their homes and belongings, rather than get under the feet of irate Roman soldiers. As Ben, Helena, and Zak made their way home, Helena related some of the adventures she and Zak had during the first few days of the fire. In turn, Ben told them everything Paul had taught him.

"If there's any way to get Paul out of prison..." Ben mused aloud.

"It sounds to me like Paul knew this was the end of the line," Helena said. "Remember what happened when he went to Jerusalem? People warned him that he would be arrested, but he knew that if he was to get to Rome, he had to go through Jerusalem."

"Yeah, but now he's gonna be Nero's scapegoat for the fire," Zak muttered. "If that's not proof that Nero started it, I don't know what is."

"We can't confirm that, Zak," Ben said. "Accident or no, Nero is glad to have an excuse to attack us."

"We knew it was only a matter of time before Nero brought his fist down on those who refuse to worship him," Helena added. "Nearly ten years ago, he attempted to drive all Jews out of Rome. The only reason we were passed over is because Nero has a sweet tooth. His favorite food is anything baked with icing on it. And Ben is certifiably the best baker in the empire."

Ben chuckled. It was true, and Ben had a plaque hanging on his wall that proved it. Suddenly he became serious again. "Our population has grown again, and Nero has become as concerned as Pharaoh was in the days of Moses' infancy. But what makes us a bigger threat is our Messiah. It wouldn't be such a big deal, save for the fact that people like Paul proclaim Jesus even to the Gentiles. Worship of one God is no longer restricted to our nation. As Paul put it, 'I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation for everyone who believes, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile.'"

"He's a wonderful teacher," Helena said. "Those are powerful words."

Zak jabbed a thumb to his chest and boasted, "I'm no more ashamed of the gospel than Paul, and I'm certainly not ashamed to be Jewish. Not with a father as great as mine."

Ben and Helena exchanged a sarcastic grin. "Yes, our Father is truly great," Ben prodded.

That deflated Zak a bit. "Point taken, Ben."

Upon arriving at the bakery, the trio found members of the church waiting for them. Ben greeted one of the men.

"Thomas! Praise God you and your family are safe."

Thomas nodded. "For now, Ben. But we heard about the crackdowns that are going on. The soldiers are singling out Jews for interrogation. Nero figures that we're most likely to be Christians."

"Well, that's a logical conclusion," Ben responded. "On that note, I'm glad you're here, Thomas. I'm calling an emergency meeting. We need to make the transition to an underground church. I need you to spread the word throughout the congregation.

"We can't meet here, Ben," Thomas said. "You're in good standing with the emperor thus far, but he knows you're Jewish, so you might be one of the first people he calls in for questioning. If the soldiers come to your door during our meeting..."

Ben stroked his chin. "You're right. Where can we meet then that Nero is less likely to suspect?"

"Cleopas," Helena said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"The potter. He lives just outside the merchant district, in an area out of the way of the fire. And he's been suggesting his place for a meeting for months. And he's Greek, which means the soldiers will be less likely to suspect him."

Ben snapped his fingers. "That's it! Perfect! What would I do without you, Helena?" He leaned over to give his wife a kiss.

"So spread the word that we meet at the potter's den," Thomas confirmed. "When?"

"Tonight, just after sunset," Ben answered. "Zak, help Thomas spread the word. Helena and I will meet you at the rendezvous point."

"You can count on me, Ben," Zak said.

"Be careful," said Helena.

Zak waved in response as he started out for the homes of other members of their church. Thomas' crowd dispersed, heading in different directions to carry out Ben's instructions.

Once they were alone, Helena turned to Ben and asked, "What if Keren returns while we're at the meeting? We can't risk giving our location away by leaving a note for her."

"We will leave a note," Ben said as he entered the bakery. "But we'll simply say that we're helping with the relief effort and that she's to stay here and wait for us."

Helena sighed. "Ben, I'm starting to get really worried. We haven't heard from or about Keren for nearly two days."

"Helena, you worry too much. I'm sure she's fine." Ben said this to try to reassure himself as much as his wife, but he knew exactly what Helena was feeling, and the tone of his voice betrayed his real emotions. "When we open with prayer tonight, we'll be sure to include a prayer for safety for all our friends and loved ones."

"Naturally."

Ben produced a piece of paper and scribbled down instructions for Keren, then placed the note on the table in the kitchen. When he finished, he said, "Alright, it's nearly sunset. Let's gather some things for tonight and head out."

Helena was way ahead of him, having gathered what was left of their bread stores. Ben couldn't help but notice the perpetual look of concern Helena wore. Being separated from her only child was wearing on her faster than she cared to admit. Ben wrapped a comforting arm around his wife, and together they headed out to Cleopas' house.

* * *

**AN: **I believe I've mentioned the wheel before. It was more commonly used in Asia Minor than in Rome, and it was often displayed alongside the fish. It combines all the Greek letters to the word ΙΧΘΥΣ, or ichthus, which means "fish." This wheel can have six or eight spokes. Ichthus was a acronym, as Keren demonstrates, for "Jesus Christ, God's Son, Savior."

Please read and review. I'm feeling a bit lonely here.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

In spite of being the location of a secret meeting, Cleopas' shop was a rather noisy place. Christians chattered nervously about the crackdowns Nero had instituted. Some begged for information on friends and family that had been separated from them in the fire.

When Ben and Helena arrived, Thomas and Cleopas greeted them. "Ben, I've tried getting the congregation to quiet down," Cleopas said, "but they're too nervous."

Ben studied his surroundings. Zak was trying to calm a frantic mother with a screaming infant. She was babbling, saying something about her husband being taken by Nero's soldiers. Other church members seemed to be noisily plotting vengeance against the Romans.

Ben settled on a sure-fire way to catch everyone's attention. Putting two fingers to his lips, Ben blasted out a loud, shrill whistle. The house fell silent, and all eyes turned to the baker.

Ben cleared his throat. "Now that I have your attention, let me start out by saying that this is not the time to panic, nor is it our place to talk about revenge. I need everyone calm and quiet, or we'll be sure to attract the attention of Nero's soldiers."

Some people grumbled, but most remained silent, seeming to regain some of their confidence now that the leader of their church was there.

"We all knew the day would come when Rome would no longer tolerate the Followers of the Way," Ben continued. "We've known it since his last attack on the Jews here in Rome. Nero feels threatened by us because we worship a God higher than Caesar. This should come as no surprise. Jesus promised His disciples that anyone who followed Him would experience resistance from the world. If Jesus Himself was persecuted, then we, His servants, should expect to be persecuted as well. So we must be ready. Jesus instructed His disciples to be as crafty as serpents, but as innocent as doves. We must not compromise our integrity, but we must be clever about how we serve Christ.

"That's why I've called this meeting. We have to make the transition to a secret church. Many of us have families. Some of you have very young children who don't understand what's happening. It's even more important than ever that you teach them what it means to follow Jesus, even though it may cost everything. Some of you know that Paul instructs the church, particularly the church in Rome—us—to be as living sacrifices for Christ. One of the things we sacrifice now is our freedom to move around. We must also prepare ourselves for the day when we do have to stand before Caesar. We may be interrogated. We may be beaten. But for the sake of these children, we cannot give away any information about the church to our enemies. It could mean death for far more people than just ourselves.

"You may ask, 'How are we supposed to bring in more people who need to know the love of Jesus if we can't tell anyone about our church?' That's where listening to the Holy Spirit comes in. He will guide you to those whom He knows are ready to receive His gospel. A serpent can hear and feel the slightest vibrations in the ground, and thus knows where to find its prey, or when to hide and avoid enemies. That's why we must be crafty like serpents. If we learn to listen to the Spirit, we will learn to discern His slightest movements and nudgings.

"Some of you will be caught and called to stand before the court as a Christian. Don't fear that time when it comes. It will be the greatest opportunity you will have to proclaim the gospel loud and clear for all to hear. This is why we must be pure and innocent as doves. Doves, unlike common pigeons, are peace-loving birds who seek quiet, not the noise of the busy city streets. There can be no strife or disruptive noise beneath the roof where they choose to roost. The same must be true of your soul. You must maintain the peace of Christ within your life. Keep yourself pure, untainted by the world. You are on trial for your faith; let them see that you are not like the world. Let them see what Jesus Christ has done in your life. Let your actions and your attitude be the witnesses that convict you before Caesar, and Caesar before God. And don't simply abstain from the same lusts that the pagans run after, and think that's all you need to do to remain pure. Live in love and grace, and don't let yourself become cynical because of the world. They will continue to sin. They will continue to kill. And we will continue to love! Holding yourself aloof, holding the world in contempt, is pride, and God cannot maintain peace in a heart dominated by pride.

"Finally, keep alert, and pray. Our lives should be one continuous prayer to God. We must always be ready to act if the Spirit prompts us, and we must speak only what the Spirit gives us. I realize this is easier said than done, but the One who teaches grace has plenty of it to spare for us."

Ben paused to study the group. All had fallen silent, except for a few mumbled amens here and there. Some people in the congregation nodded their agreement. The message seemed to penetrate. Ben took a breath and continued.

"Now, before we start discussing plans for taking the church 'underground,' as it were, let us pray together, as a church body. There are a lot of prayer requests tonight, and I want to make certain that everyone's needs are heard."

The congregation gathered around, taking turns in requesting and offering prayer for a variety of needs, the vast majority of which had to do with the fire. And though Ben was more than content to lead the prayer, he wasn't thrilled about being singled out when Helena brought up Keren. He had hoped that one of the members would simply offer to pray for Keren specifically, but Thomas had other plans. He offered to close out the prayer time, which lasted for nearly an hour. When his turn came to pray, Thomas instructed the congregation to gather around Ben and Helena and lay hands on them in order to pray for Keren's safety and that of the church. So while Ben blushed profusely and Helena wept, the church prayed, a cacophony of voices in three different languages, with Thomas leading in Greek and Aramaic.

When Thomas fell silent, the others followed suit. Finally Zak broke the silence with a resolute amen, and the congregation released Ben and Helena to retreat to a corner of the room—at least for a while.

* * *

Several hours later, Ben and a few designated church leaders had devised a series of codes and signals the church could use to communicate, and had taught them to the other members of the congregation. It was agreed that the more prominent members of the church—Ben included—were to avoid using their homes or businesses as meeting places as much as possible for the next several months, as the Romans would be carefully watching certain people, especially among the Jews. Cleopas was still relatively inconspicuous, and his shop was big enough to house a meeting, and close enough to several streets and alleyways that Ben had designated as key escape routes. All the prearranged meeting places the church settled on that evening were within sprinting distance of some entrance to the catacombs. The underground passageways of tombs would also serve as emergency meeting areas, and the main escape route if the church ever needed to evacuate Rome completely. Ben and Thomas also set up a system for escaping in the event that Nero should ever try to use fire again to flush Christians out of other parts of the city.

Helena and some of the other leading women in the church offered various ideas for secret ministry. The children thought these new "secret missions" would be fun, but some of the men complained that most of the tasks Helena suggested were "women's work."

"Alright, then, you can sit at home, bored, while we bring in the harvest for the kingdom," Helena challenged. Ben chuckled as the naysayers clammed up and glowered at Helena.

Zak was put in charge of organizing a resistance in the event that the lives of the children were threatened. Ben had agreed to allow Zak to prepare weapons and a small defense force on the condition that it was to be used as a last resort. Only if a child was being attacked could anyone in the church respond with violence, solely for the purpose of providing that child with an escape. The slightest amount of bloodshed would get the whole church pegged as a group of thieves and murderers, and that could be devastating to their witness. One man with military training offered to teach all the young men, and any of the ladies who wished to learn, how to temporarily disable an enemy without causing any actual harm. Ben heartily agreed to the self-defense course, and the military man had no trouble finding volunteers among the women.

As the meeting drew to a close, Ben tested the code they had set up. He approached a girl of about nine and asked, "You're going to a meeting to listen to a storykeeper read a scroll containing a story of Jesus, and you're stopped on the street by a soldier. What do you tell him when he asks you where you're going?"

"I tell him that my oldest Brother has died, and the family is gathering to read His testament," the girl responded with a smile.

"Very good," Ben praised her. He then turned to a young boy. "And what would you say if a soldier stopped you on your way to attend a baptism?"

"That I'm going to celebrate a brother or sister's birthday," the boy said proudly.

"Wonderful," Ben said, pleased that the code had been so easily memorized by the children. "Now, is what you're telling the soldier a lie?"

The children shook their heads. "Nope," said the girl. "It's the truth. Jesus is our oldest Brother, and He did die, but He came back to life. And He left a testament for us to hear and read."

"And when someone's getting baptized," the boy added, "it's like they're being born again to be a Christian instead of a pagan, so it's their birthday in heaven."

Ben smiled warmly. "A smarter group of children I've never met."

The children blushed at the compliment. Suddenly the boy yawned.

"Looks like it's time to be getting home to bed," Helena observed. It was past midnight, and the journey home would be dangerous enough with patrols outside, enforcing the curfew.

"You best leave in increments," Cleopas said. "All of us leaving at once would be like waving a red flag before a raging bull."

Ben nodded. "Right. Thomas, you and your family slip out first. Keep to the alleys."

"No problem there, Ben," Thomas said.

It took another hour before everyone had filtered out of the potter's den. Ben and his family made it home without incident. When they got back to the bakery, Helena ran inside to look for Keren. Ben and Zak were right behind her. A lighting of a candle later revealed no sign of Keren. The note lay undisturbed on the table. Helena glanced at Ben, worry etched all over her face.

"She's still out there, Ben. We have to find her."

Ben wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her close. "Keren's smart, and I'm sure she's fine. We'd be better off waiting until the curfew is lifted. We'll start searching for her first thing in the morning."

"I can get around town without being seen," Zak said. "I'll find Keren and have her back by daybreak. You know I can do it."

"Yes, and nine times out of ten you'd make it, Zak. But there's always that one. I want to go find her, too, but if we did locate her, we'd be hard pressed to make it all the way back here. We could put Keren and whomever she may be working with in grave danger."

"But Ben, she's already in danger!" Zak protested.

"We need to remember that God is in control here. It's hard, I know. It's really hard. But...I think we're supposed to stay here. We're not supposed to take the chance. Not tonight. We have to leave Keren in God's hands."

Zak looked back and forth between Ben and Helena. Though Helena remained unusually silent on the issue, her expression matched that of her husband. Whatever they were hearing from God, they were in agreement on it. But the concern was still evident in their faces, and in Ben's voice.

"Fine," Zak muttered. "But at first light, I'm going out to look for her."

"We all will," Ben said. "In the meantime, we have to try to get some rest. We've been run ragged, and the fire is far from being contained."

Zak begrudgingly retreated to his room, while Ben and Helena settled into theirs.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight," Helena sighed as she tried to find a comfortable position on the couple's straw mattress.

"Me neither," said Ben, slipping underneath the covers to snuggle down beside Helena. "So we'll just pray instead. And hopefully God will grant us enough rest to renew our energy for tomorrow's search."

Helena agreed, and the couple cuddled together, keeping a prayer vigil until they both managed to drift off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Ben, Helena and Zak set out to begin their search, breakfast largely forgotten. No one had been hungry that morning. Zak picked up his sword, insisting on bringing it with him.

Helena led the trio to the place where they had last seen Keren. The smoldering ruins of the buildings and bodies around them gave off a putrid smell. Ben found it a challenge to keep down what little food he'd eaten that morning.

"A centurion took Keren and a few others down that way to work at a shelter," Helena said. "He's probably now leading a work force up near the head of the fire."

"Then that's where we'll start," Ben said. "Zak, you head down to the shelter and find out who might be there that has seen Keren recently, then meet us behind the fireline. And be careful!"

Zak nodded and took off in the direction of the shelter, while Ben and Helena made their way up to the fire.

* * *

When Ben and Helena arrived, they were greeted by swarms of people running to and from the blaze with buckets of water, axes, and anything else they found handy in trying to bring the blaze under control. No attempt was being made to extinguish fires in houses that had already been caught up in the flames; instead people drenched the houses and streets around the blaze and did their best to clear away any flammable rubble or brush. Spot fires were stamped out as quickly as possible. The death toll from the fire seemed to fall with each passing hour, as more and more people heeded the warnings to get out of their homes. Some in the fire's path had even managed to save a few possessions. Some barely escaped before their houses were suddenly set ablaze by the dry, hot winds, which had started early that day.

Helena had trouble picking out familiar faces among the soldiers. Everyone was covered in soot, and the centurions were too focused on barking orders to pay attention to the civilians. There was no sign of Tacticus, the bag-eyed young centurion who had assigned Keren to the shelter.

"Ben! Helena!"

The couple turned to respond to whoever had called their name. It was Senator Patronius.

"Patronius! What are you doing up here?" Ben said as he greeted his old friend.

"Caesar is using my villa for a temporary residence until his palace is rebuilt enough for him to move back in. I've been helping with the relief effort for the last few days. What are you doing up here? Nero's restricted everyone not in the path of the fire to their district of residence. And where are the kids?"

"We're looking for Keren," Helena answered. "She was separated from us the first night of the fire, while we were helping victims of the fire. She was sent to a shelter to help care for the wounded and homeless, and we haven't seen or heard from her since."

"Well, she's not safe there," Patronius said. "Nero's paranoid. He's been arresting even those who have been helping nonstop to fight the fire, accusing them of setting it. He's using the fire as an excuse to arrest and kill Christians."

"We know," Ben responded. "That's why it's imperative that we find her. Zak's checking the shelters in the direction Keren was last seen heading. He'll meet us here as soon as he finds something."

"You haven't heard anything?" Helena asked Patronius.

"I had heard about a group of people who were arrested about a day or so after the fire began. Some of them were volunteers, but that didn't stop Nero from locking them up. They're in the stockade now, awaiting execution."

Helena gasped and put a hand to her mouth, silently praying that Keren wasn't among those now in prison.

"We had heard that Nero moved Paul from his house to the stockade," Ben said.

Patronius nodded. "It's true, I'm afraid. His physician, Luke, is on his way back to Rome to check up on him. I've sent messengers out to intercept him. If Luke sets foot in the city right now, he risks losing his life."

Suddenly the palace slave Casius had pointed out to Ben the day before ran up. "Senator Patronius, I have an update on the prisoners in the stockade."

"What have you heard, Darius?"

"Nero has plans to throw them to the lions at the next imperial games, which he plans to hold in three days, regardless of whether the fire is out by that time or not. And Paul has been sentenced to death by beheading."

"Oh no!" Ben cried. "We've got to find a way to get them out of there!"

"I'm afraid there's not much we can do from this end," Patronius said. "But we can certainly try. When is Paul's trial?"

"He already had it," Darius answered.

"What?!"

"I was there. It was amazing. There wasn't the slightest hint of fear in Paul's voice, and he spoke so eloquently. Everyone there was impacted by what he had to say. Even Nero was stunned into silence for a while. But in the end, Nero sentenced him to death. Paul is in a special prison cell right now. He's being allowed these next three days to write one last letter to a friend in Ephesus, as per his final request to Caesar."

"That would be Timothy," Ben said.

"They're going to be devastated," Helena said. "The Ephesians admire Paul; Lois, Eunice and Timothy in particular."

"Not if we find a way to get Paul out of prison," Ben said.

"We'll talk about it later," said Patronius. "Nihilus is bringing in a fresh crew of workers and guards, and he's sure to get suspicious if he sees us standing around talking. Darius, hurry back to my place and keep your ears and eyes open for a young woman named Keren. Ben, Helena, if anyone asks, you're working for me. Come, let's get busy, or we'll arouse suspicion."

Ben and Helena joined a couple of Patronius' servants in distributing clothing and food to workers and refugees, all the while keeping an eye out for Zak.

* * *

**AN:** The code Ben uses in this chapter is based on a real-life code used by Christians in the former Soviet Union. To avoid being taken in for questioning by Communist soldiers, Christians would often tell an officer who stopped them that they were going to celebrate a birthday with a picnic in the woods, when in actuality, they were gathering to hold secret church meetings or baptisms. One child really did tell an officer that the reason his family was gathering in a local home was because his oldest Brother had died, and they were about to read His testament. It's a clever answer, but not an incriminating lie. This is what Jesus meant when He told us to be shrewd as serpents, yet innocent as doves.

One more chapter, and I'll have completed a multi-chapter fic for the first time. Hopefully this will become a habit. ;)


End file.
